Cold House
by bbcsherlockwho
Summary: It picks up a few months after the ending of Lethal White. Robin lives in her new flat and she is finally in a good place, as is Cormoran. But his past comes back to give him another case.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

„I can't believe you made me come here", Robin screamed at Noah, her flatmate of two months, over the techno music that engulfed them in the bar. He just grinned back at her and motioned for her to join him on the dance floor.

With a mock eye roll, but secretly enjoying herself, Robin started moving around rhythmically to the booming sounds. Already a little loosened up from the glass of wine she had drunk at the bar, she soon forgot that dancing was not something she usually did. She couldn't even remember the last time she went out like this. With Matthew it was always drinks with friends. And Yorkshire was not really the centre of clubbing.

It was Saturday night and for once there was no work today or the next. Robin's go to excuse, the last few times Noah tried to get her to go out with him, did not work today and she was glad about it. It gave her a freeing feeling to move around without having to socialise with anyone and just letting the music run through her. Every thought just fell from her. There was no Matthew, no divorce, no cases. Just her. And she savoured that moment while it lasted.

Too quickly the DJ set was over, and the music style changed. Robin saw Noah come over to her and they made their way to the bar. "Shots?" he asked her. "Sure, why not."

They downed their Tequilas and stood looking around the room they were in. It wasn't big in space but filled to the brim with dancing and sweating people.

"I think the best part is over. Wanna go home?" Noah said close to her ear, so she could hear him. "Let's go. I don't like the music anyway", Robin answered and started to move in the direction of the exit.

When they were out on the street Robin suddenly realised that they had been joined by a young man in skinny jeans and a tight grey t-shirt. "Robin, this is Jonathan. He will join us", Noah introduced them to each other and together they made their way to Piccadilly Station to catch a train to their flat in Earls Court.

Robin's new living arrangements, organised by Strike's friends Nick and Ilsa, turned out to be perfect. Not only didn't she have to justify her working ours anymore when she came home. Often, her and Noah met at the unruliest hours – him, coming home from a night out, her, leaving for an early observation. They also hit it off right away and became immediate friends, which made for ideal company. In two months, they found a rhythm and accord that made her want to go home to after a long day at work. For the first time, since working for Strike, Robin actually wanted to talk to someone about what had happened during her day, and Noah turned out to be a very adept listener. Being confined to the same office with the same people, he enjoyed the stories Robin had to tell about her clients. Even though she didn't disclose any personal details, it still gave him a glimpse into other people's lives and something to look forward to when they met in the evening for drinks in the kitchen.

When they finally got home, Robin declined the offer for a nightcap, to give the two men their privacy and retired to her room. It wasn't very large, but she had tried to make it as homely as possible. She had enough space to fit a queen bed and a comfortable small sofa, as well as a small desk to work from when she wanted to do some research from home.

After having changed from her dress and tights into her pyjamas, Robin said down on her sofa and opened up her laptop. Even though it was past one in the morning she wasn't tired yet. Since she didn't have a TV, the laptop was her only way to catch up on some telly.

The other reason she didn't want to go to bed yet, was that she knew, the moment she would close her eyes, all the thoughts that escaped her during her nightly adventure would start rushing back in again. And she wanted to stay on that blissful cloud a bit longer without a care in the world. The real world would come back soon enough.

Robin listened for any noises coming from the kitchen and being satisfied of having the space to herself, she quickly got another glass of white wine from the fridge and made herself comfortable on the sofa.

She woke up with a start when her mobile started ringing loudly in her ear. Confused where she was, she blindly grabbed for it. Slowly, the memories came back that she had just wanted to close her eyes for a few minutes the night before and must have fallen asleep immediately. Still on the sofa and with sparkling sunlight streaming into her room, she sat up and looked at her phone. It was Ilsa.

"Hey. Sorry, I just woke up", Robin said to her friend, before Ilsa could get a word in.

"That must have been a great night", Ilsa answered with a smile, "It's nearly 12!"

Surprised, Robin looked at her clock on the wall. When was the last time she had slept that long?

"I don't want to keep you from waking up, I just wanted to ring whether you would like to come over for dinner tonight? It's been a while and Nick and I miss you."

Robin smiled to herself. It was a nice feeling to be missed by someone and to be perfectly honest with herself she missed them too. She hadn't seen them for a few weeks and since she had no plans for the evening she accepted happily.

"Shall I bring something?", Robin asked.

"Maybe a bottle of the Rosé we had last time? I remember it quite fondly", Ilsa answered with a grin in her voice.

They agreed on a time and after they hung up, Robin went to the bathroom to take a long shower to wake herself up and start into a new day fresh and clean.

The rest of the day went by quickly. Robin busied herself with chores around the flat and listened to Noah's review of the night that was much more successful compared to her falling asleep on the sofa with an empty wine glass in one hand.

At 7 o'clock, Robin, with a bottle of wine in each hand, rang the Herbert's doorbell. After a few moments she was greeted not by one of her hosts, but by her partner, Cormoran Strike.

"Cormoran", she said surprised, "I didn't know you'd be here."

He reached out to take the wine and made space to let her enter the comfortable flat. In the following shuffle for space in the small hallway, Robin could hide the little smile that had appeared all of a sudden.

"Yeah, I came by to return something and Ilsa told me she'd invited you. So, I thought I'd stay." Realising the implication of what he'd just said, he added with a grin: "You know I can't say no to good food."

 _Of course, you can't._ Robin thought to herself. With a sheepish smile she repeated the sentiment out loud.

Strike laughed and nudged her playfully along the hall into the kitchen, where Ilsa and Nick were busy preparing the food.

"There you are!", Ilsa exclaimed, hugging Robin tightly. Being with people who genuinely cared for her was still a new concept to her. It had taken her such a long time to find friends in London when she'd first moved here with Matthew. She never liked his friends very much, but she also wasn't very good at socialising and meeting new people. So, she had stayed in the same circle for years, even though it made her miserable. But during the last few months she had built herself a small circle of close friends – Nick and Ilsa and Noah, Vanessa, who had helped her in the immediate aftermath of her separation from Matthew, her colleague Sam Barclay and even Strike's old friend Shanker popped up from time to time for a pint in the Tottenham. And of course, Cormoran Strike himself. After they had actually talked about everything that happened during the last year in their respective lives during the horse race in Woolstone, they continued being open with each other. He assured her that her job was safe, and she went back to therapy. The second time around, without the constant thought of being sacked again, it was actually a lot more helpful.

Robin also found out that sharing the pain with people around her was a good thing. During one especially long evening in the Tottenham she and Strike talked about their individual trauma and afterwards it was like a wall had been torn down between them. They both had experienced horrible things, but came out the other side, maybe not unscathed, but alive. Since then, they had spent many an evening together, usually with at least someone else present, but with an ease that was missing while Robin was still living with Matthew.

After all the hugs and the exclamations of "It's been too long!" on the Herbert's part, they sat down for dinner. Ilsa and Robin each had a glass of the Rosé, while Nick and Strike stuck to beer.

Soon, Ilsa turned the conversation towards Robin's reason for sleeping in. "So, Robin, what did you do last night to need so much sleep today?"

Robin suddenly felt all eyes on herself and her gaze quickly darted in Strike's direction to see his reaction, but she only got an inquisitive look that didn't tell her anything about what he actually thought.

"Noah dragged me to a bar. We danced, drank Tequila and when we got home I fell asleep in front of the TV. So, nothing scandalous. Sorry to disappoint", she added with a smile in Ilsa's direction.

"Too bad. I thought maybe a nice, handsome guy was keeping you from getting up in the morning", Ilsa answered.

Robin felt a sudden rush of blood shoot to her face. For all the things they could now talk about openly, Strike's and Robin's respective love life was not one of them. Both were painfully aware that the other was single for the first time since they knew each other. But it was also an unspoken rule between them that nothing could ever come of it. None had a great track record of successful relationships in the past and they didn't want to jeopardise their working partnership for something romantic that would eventually end in tears. That didn't mean that Robin would want Strike to think that she took strange men home on Saturday nights.

"No, no guy. Just reruns of _Black Books_ and a glass of wine. What about you?" Robin tried to segway the conversation into safer territory than her love life and Ilsa accepted the challenge and told her guests about their Saturday evening.

Robin chanced another look in Strike's direction and found his eyes on her. When their eyes met across the table he gave her a quick smile, before concentrating on his friends again. For every reason she gave herself for not pursuing anything romantic with Strike, she would get a warm and fuzzy feeling in her belly whenever he looked at her like that. Before she could dwell on these thoughts for much longer, she ate a piece of the salmon Nick had cooked and joined back into the conversation.

Cormoran Strike knew he was in deep trouble. The moment he heard from his friends that Robin would spend the evening in their company he looked for a way to be there too. He knew as well as she did that anything more than working partners would be a disaster in the making. But after the separation from her husband he realised that the main reason he always gave himself to stop his thoughts from lingering on her too much, was now gone. She was single. And he looked for every possibility to spend more time with her. And now he sat at a dinner table with his best friends and had to hear about her nightly adventures. He hoped no one had heard the release of the breath, he had been holding, while the conversation circled around the possible men in Robin's bed. He should get a grip. Looking away from her beautiful eyes he turned his attention back on his friends and the evening continued in an amicable mood.

While eating the Mousse au Chocolat Nick had prepared the night before, Strike's mobile suddenly vibrated.

"Sorry", he excused himself and took the call to the veranda to use the time for a cigarette. "This is Strike", he answered the unknown number after the fourth ring.

"Cormoran?"

 _Oh no._ He knew that voice instantly.

"Charlotte. What do you want?" he asked with an icy tone. From the periphery of his eyes he saw that three pairs of eyes went to him the moment he had said her name. He turned and walked a few steps from the door.

"Cormoran. I need you." Charlotte Ross sounded nothing like her usual self. Her voice was small and hoarse, with a kind of desperation to it.

"I'm not up for one of your games tonight. Just tell me what you want." After their last meeting at the restaurant he hadn't heard from her and he had hoped that her sudden need to get back together with him was crushed by his decisive unwillingness. But he also couldn't help but feel that something was wrong.

"Something happened. Can you come? To my house?" Either this was her grandest performance, or something was seriously wrong. He couldn't remember having ever heard her voice sound so weak.

"Please tell me what happened.", Strike said.

"I… I don't know. I came home and there he was…" She didn't continue her thought.

"Who was there? Is someone in the house?", Strike asked.

"Jago. He was just lying there and the babies… I don't know what to do."

"Charlotte, what happened to Jago? Where is he?" He had started to get nervous, his cigarette forgotten in his hand.

"There is so much blood…" Charlotte whispered.

Strike felt his insides go cold. He turned around to look at the people at the dinner table. He didn't want to be involved in Charlotte's affairs again, but he knew that kind of thought was futile. His gaze lingered on Robin. He never wanted for her to get dragged into his messy past.

"Have you called the police?" Strike tore his eyes from Robin.

"No, I called you. Will you come?", Charlotte answered.

"Call the police immediately. I'm on my way." He ended the call and went back into the living room. Their looks turned into frowns when they saw his face.

"Cormoran, what's wrong? You look like you saw a ghost." Robin stood up from the table and walked towards him. She deserved to truth, however messy.

"That was Charlotte." Ilsa sucked in a loud breath at the mention of his ex's name. "I think something happened to her husband. I'm sorry, but I have to go."

He turned towards the hall to put on his coat.

"I'm coming with you", he heard Robin say. "You look like there has been a tragedy and you might need help."

To everyone's surprise Strike didn't argue but made way to let her pass to get the coats and exit out the front door after they bade a hasty goodbye to their hosts.

"Let's take a cab. We shouldn't waste any time." With that Strike set out down the street and Robin followed him into the night.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

They arrived at Charlotte's home fifteen minutes later. There was no one in front of the entrance.

"I told her to call the police", Strike mumbled to himself as he got out of the car.

Strike had been unusually quiet during the car ride and so Robin didn't really know what to expect. She had heard a lot of different stories about the former Charlotte Campbell, on-and-off-again girlfriend of her boss, before she got married to Jago Ross, a man who was the polar opposite of Strike, at least concerning his wealth and position. Most of the stories were from people other than Strike himself. His ex-girlfriend definitely fell into the area they didn't discuss.

Robin had met Charlotte only once, and only very briefly, when she had stormed out of the office on her first day at work. Since then she had seen pictures and glimpsed her from a distance at an event for the Paralympics. But she had never really met her face to face and that made her nervous while she climbed the steps to the town house's entrance.

Strike knocked on the door and immediately they heard someone moving inside. A few moments later the door was opened, and Strike felt Charlotte's arms come around his neck. Surprised by the sudden feel of her body pressed against his, his instincts took over and he hugged her back until he realised how inappropriate this was and loosened her arms and pushed her away softly.

"Charlotte, what happened?" Strike asked. Her face was wet with tears and her eyes were puffy and red. _Even now, she is beautiful_ Strike thought to himself as he took in her appearance. She was wearing loose white trousers and a thin grey cashmere pullover. Her feet were bare. Her clothing and her hands had red stains that looked like blood.

Her eyes were unfocused, so he cupped her face with his right hand to steady her and repeated his question.

"What happened? Can you show me?" The physical connection seemed to work, and Charlotte shook her head as if waking from a dream. She leaned into his touch and closed her eyes for a second as if to savour the feeling of his hand on her skin.

"Did you call the police?" Only now, Charlotte seemed to realise that he hadn't come alone, and both turned towards Robin. Strike looked a bit ashamed to have momentarily forgotten that she was with him and immediately removed his hand, but Charlotte looked at her with icy hostility. She turned her gaze back to the man in front of her. "What is she doing here? I called you".

Robin raised her eyebrows at this rude behaviour.

Strike took a step back to get even more distance between them. "Robin is my partner. It sounded like a crime had been committed, so it only made sense for her to come."

Charlotte's eyes returned to Robin and scrutinized her from top to bottom in a few seconds.

Turning back to Strike she said coldly: "And how come you two can come together so easily on a Sunday night? Was she already in your bed? I should have known. Were the others you were with after me just a way to distract yourself until this one became available?"

"Why did you call, Charlotte?" Strike had no intention to let this conversation drift into personal territory. He forced himself not to look at Robin, but he could feel her shuffling uncomfortably next to him. And to be honest with himself, Charlotte had seen through him immediately. Even if that was never the official reason, he used his relationships the past few years to distract himself from Robin. Now that she was single, he hadn't even looked at another woman. Not that he would tell her that.

Sensing his growing impatience, she turned towards the front door. "Follow me."

Strike turned towards Robin and gave her a small, encouraging smile, but she turned away and followed Charlotte into the house.

"He's in here", Charlotte turned a corner and opened a heavy wooden door. Behind was the study and Strike immediately saw the source of her bloodstains. Crumpled on the floor was a man. His head was smashed in and there was blood everywhere. Strike stopped on the threshold and moved to make space for Robin to look into the room. She gasped loudly and put her hand in front of her mouth as if to silence the sound. It was a gruesome sight. Jago Ross' face was turned away from them. The back of his head was a red pulp. Next to his body lay what looked like a polo trophy. There was blood on it as well.

"Looks like the murder weapon", Robin said turning away from the body and towards Strike who was still in the doorway with her.

"Seems to be." Looking from Robin to Charlotte he said: "When did you find him?"

"I came home at about 10 pm. I went upstairs to check on the babies and when I came back down I found him. Then I called you."

Strike started to hear sirens in the distance.

"Did you notice anything strange when you came home? Open door or window? Did you have the feeling someone was still here?"

"Nothing. The door was closed as usual and the only other person in the house is the nanny. She is still sleeping. I didn't think waking her was necessary." Charlotte started to pace the hallway in front of the study. Strike had the impression that this was a way to hide her shock and not to show her impatience with the whole situation.

"Did he have any appointments for this evening?" Robin looked at the other woman with a professional distance in her gaze.

"Not as far as I know. But I'm not very familiar with his business calendar. He has an assistant, who knows these things."

They could now see the red and blue lights coming into the house from the street.

"I think I should go…" Charlotte left Strike and Robin alone with the dead Jago Ross.

"He was a bit of cunt, but even I wouldn't have wished a death like this on him." He rubbed his right hand over his face to focus and looked over the room once more. "It doesn't look like a fight though. Everything's where it's supposed to be."

"You don't think Charlotte…", Robin hesitated. It was one thing to suspect people you didn't know of being able to commit cold-blooded murder. But to accuse someone your boss had an intimate relationship with for 16 years is another matter altogether.

Strike caught her meaning but shook his head. "No, I don't think she killed her husband. She is capable of a lot of things, but not this."

Robin accepted his answer but wasn't completely convinced herself. But before she could continue they heard voices in the hall and turned towards a familiar face.

"Why is it always you two when there is a bloody murder?" DI Eric Wardle came into view with his entourage of crime scene investigators.

"Believe me, I would rather look for irresponsible fathers who don't pay alimony." Strike shook Wardle's hand. Robin did the same.

"You will have to come to the station for an official statement of course", Wardle added while making his way into the study and crouching down beside the body. "It looks like he got attacked from behind. Either he was surprised, or he knew his murderer and was comfortable enough to turn his back to them." He continued to examine the scene, writing down information he didn't share with the two private investigators still waiting in the door.

Strike turned towards Robin. "I have to talk to Charlotte again. Will you stay here and make sure Wardle doesn't destroy any evidence?"

At this the DI looked in their direction and raised an appalled eyebrow to show his mock annoyance.

"Sure", Robin replied without looking at Strike as he turned to leave. She had tried to hide her unease with the situation since they arrived at the Ross' front door, but her face must have given her away when she looked back into the room of the crime, because Wardle immediately stood up and walked towards her with a comforting expression.

"You know that they are a thing of the past right?" He stopped and looked into her eyes. Robin felt stupid that someone had deduced her feelings with such ease. She wasn't going to continue showing everyone how she felt. Without blinking she answered: "That is not what worries me. Charlotte was the one to find him and from what it looks like, he hasn't been dead that long. Which makes her suspect number one and I'm afraid that Cormoran can't be objective when it comes to her."

Wardle nodded and accepted her explanation. "Well, right now, we know too little to form any theories. But I agree with you that she is top of the list of people we will talk to." With that he returned his focus to his work and Robin continued watching his progress while more and more CSIs joined him.

Strike looked for Charlotte and found her in the kitchen where she was talking to a policewoman who seemed to take an initial statement.

Seeing him enter the spacious room Charlotte asked the officer whether they could resume their conversation at a later time. Annoyed, but unwilling to force her, she agreed and left the room.

"Thank you for coming, Bluey. I wouldn't have known what to do." While she spoke, her hand came up to grip his arm lightly. Strike immediately took a step back from her. He was not going to let the intimacy from their hug at the door grow any further.

"We're going to leave now. There is nothing we can do here. Let the police do their work and they will find whoever did this", Strike said.

"Aren't you even going to ask if it was me?"

"No." She waited, but he didn't elaborate any further.

"Well then. I guess you should get back to your girlfriend. It must be very strange for her to be here." Charlotte waited for Strike to comment on the insinuation she had just made, but he wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of getting a reaction from him. _It might be better if she thinks that Robin and I are together_. That's at least what he told himself to justify his silence. If he was perfectly honest with himself, he enjoyed the jealous look that had overtaken Charlotte's face. He hadn't forgotten that only three months before she had wanted him back. And the way her brain worked, she wouldn't stop pursuing him until she got what she wanted. _So, let her think whatever she wants._ _Maybe, this will keep her from trying to get back into my life._ After two years, Strike realised he could finally meet the woman, he had spent the most part of 16 years in love with, without being sucked back into their shared past. He was in a good place and he didn't want to jeopardise that.

"Goodbye Charlotte." Without giving her a chance to say something, Strike left the kitchen and went to look for his partner. He found Robin where he had left her, watching the CSIs do their work.

"Do you need us tonight Eric, or can we meet tomorrow at the station?" Wardle told them to come to Scotland Yard tomorrow at nine and with a wave goodbye turned back toward the photographer he had been speaking to before Strike had interrupted.

"You should get a taxi home", Strike said to Robin after they had exited the house and she started walking toward the nearest tube station.

"That's ok. It's not that far", Robin said without stopping. "See you tomorrow morning."

Strike stood in the middle of the sidewalk and watched her disappear into to the entrance of South Kensington station. _Bugger_ he thought to himself. Thinking about how to explain the whole situation to Robin he went looking for a cab. His tiny flat above the office wasn't as close to the rich neighbourhood where Charlotte lived as Robin's new home. He had been on his feet for most of the day and his leg made its inconvenience with the situation known.

On his way home, he texted Barclay to cover Strike's new client the next morning, so he could keep his appointment with the police. He also sent a quick text message to Ilsa, explaining in a few words what had happened. When he opened his flat door, his thoughts returned to Robin.

 _Did you get home ok?_ It had become a sort of tradition for them that they checked in with each other after a long night out. After her last encounter with a murderous sociopath he didn't want to take any chances. Her reply came just a few moments later.

 _Yeah. You?_

 _Safe and sound. Have a good night._

 _You too._

He put his phone on the small kitchen table and took a Doom Bar from the fridge. He hoped Robin wouldn't pay too much attention to Charlotte's remarks on the nature of his and Robin's relationship. They were finally at a point where they didn't have to keep secrets from one another and he didn't want her to feel uncomfortable in any way.

He undressed and removed his prosthesis and tried to find some sleep that wouldn't come for a long time.


	3. Chapter 3

Robin was early the next day and decided to wait for Strike in front of Scotland Yard. She was mad at herself for being so cold towards him when they had said goodbye the night before. She had no reason to be. He was a grown man and could do whatever and with whomever he wanted. It was not like she had a claim on him in any way. But since she was single it felt right that he would be too. Even though she knew nothing would be happening between them. But with them both single the possibility was still there that there might. Someday. And that gave her a sense of security that she didn't want to lose again. So, she had rather played the insulted party instead of supporting her friend in a strange situation. Charlotte's accusation that they were sleeping together had done the rest. Robin had felt sussed out even though it wasn't true. For some reason she didn't want the glamorous other woman to know the real nature of her relationship with Strike. And he had seemed to follow a similar strategy. At least he didn't contradict anything she'd said. With these thoughts filling her mind, she steeled herself for the day to come. She had promised herself that she would not let this situation become personal for her again and was determined to return to her easy relationship with her partner.

"Morning. Everything alright?" Robin jumped at the sudden voice beside her. Strike had arrived without her noticing while her thoughts had been otherwise occupied.

"Sorry", he apologised hastily. "I didn't realise you hadn't heard me coming."

"Sorry", she replied. "I was somewhere else. Shall we go in?" She gave a quick and hopefully confident smile in his direction and waited for his acknowledgement with a short nod before they made their way up the steps towards their appointment with Wardle.

They met in a small interrogation room where he offered them tea and biscuits, which Strike heartily accepted. They spent the next half hour recounting the events that had let them to the crime scene the night before and when there was nothing further to add, Strike asked: "Do you have any leads?"

"Nothing concrete yet. There is no sign of forced entry. Either Ross' murderer was admitted or had a key. We are working different angles." Wardle knew what Strike was really asking though. "At the moment we have no reason to suspect the wife, but she definitely had means and opportunity. We are reconstructing her movements from last night and once we have a conclusive time of death we will know more. Until then, it's all just speculation."

Strike nodded but seemed distracted. Robin and Wardle exchanged a glance to see if the other knew what was going on in the detective's head but were disappointed.

"Thanks Eric", Robin said to fill the silence and stood up to leave.

Wardle followed her example and so did Strike. "Should we need anything else from you two, I'll call."

They said goodbye and left the building.

"What is it? You just went to a different place and haven't come back", Robin said to a still unfocused Strike. Realising that they were now on the street and alone he turned to her.

"I'm just trying to make sense of all this. Sorry for checking out", he said.

"That's ok. I would be confused too if Matthew had called me, because he came home and found Sarah murdered." She had meant it as a joke but could see that it had hit too close to home. After their separation Matthew had started a serious relationship with the woman he had cheated on Robin with. They now lived together in the small house, she had shared with her husband only a few months earlier.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to be insensitive", she added quickly. They started to make their way in the direction of the nearest tube station to get to Denmark Street. When they arrived, Strike vanished into his inner office and closed the door.

 _Great job, Robin. Any other stupid comparisons to make?_ To distract herself she turned on the kettle. After a few minutes of silence, she knocked on Strike's door and entered. He was sitting in his chair, but looking out the window, deep in thought.

"Hey. I'm sorry about what I said…", Robin said.

"No, no", he started, but stopped as if to think what to say next. "After the last time I saw her, I thought, I was finally done with that part of my life. There are too many memories I don't want to relive. And now she comes storming back into my life and I don't know how to handle it."

Robin was startled by this display of honesty concerning Charlotte. She was not a topic they had discussed in any detail in the past. She put down the tray of tea and biscuits and sat down in the chair opposite him. She longed to go to him and comfort him, but felt this moment needed a bit of distance between them.

"You don't have to go through this alone. You helped me when my life changed completely; so, let me help you this time. Isn't that what girlfriends do?", she asked with a twinkle in her eyes.

He laughed at that and it immediately dispersed with any tension in the room. "I hope you weren't offended that I didn't correct her?"

"I didn't either, so I think we're even." She smiled at him across the desk and felt this moment take on a sense of importance. He returned her gaze with darkening eyes and Robin suddenly felt her heart beat faster. This was dangerous. If there hadn't been the table, she knew there wouldn't have been anything to stop her from closing the distance between them. Instead, her brain started to function again, and she dispersed of the charged energy between them with a harrumph and said "So, I better get back to work. Barclay can't do everything by himself."

Strike seemed to understand her need to deflect from the situation and agreed. She left the room quickly and after closing the connecting door, sat down in her chair and let out a long and shuddering breath. That moment had been too intense. She had seen desire in his eyes and was certain that she had sent similar signals. She started her computer to distract herself from the thoughts that threatened to cloud her mind and her judgement. After having answered a few e-mails she checked the time and realised that she was late for her observation of the latest wife that was accused of cheating by her husband and left the office while yelling a quick goodbye to Strike through the closed doors.

* * *

While Robin was making herself busy, Strike couldn't stop thinking about what had just happened. There had been a moment between them. And even though he didn't want to mess with their partnership, it was getting increasingly difficult to ignore the growing feelings he had for her. This was getting ridiculous. Moments like the one that just happened made him question whether it was the right decision to stay colleagues and friends. At some point something was going to happen. He just couldn't decide if it was going to be a good or a bad thing.

The one thing he could decide though was to call Barclay to relieve him from tailing a young banker to see if he was secretly gathering information on his current employer to sell to a competitor. At least then, his mind would be occupied with something else then the women in his life.

It was a slow afternoon. The banker stayed in the office and Strike was slowly running out of cigarettes which he smoked outside of a little café opposite the office building where the man worked.

 _How's it going with the wife? Anything suspicious?_ He had debated whether to call her to get an update on what she was doing but had finally decided against it. Texting left at least a little distance between them.

 _So far, she went to a beauty salon and the gym. Regular stuff. What are you up to?_ Robin replied a few minutes later.

 _Took over for Barclay. But nothing so far._

When she didn't answer he thought she had gone back to her own task, but after a while he heard his phone vibrating again on his table.

 _D'you wanna go for a drink later?_

A little smile crept unto his face. He would see her again tonight. His mood lifted immediately, and he suggested the Tottenham at six. When she had confirmed the time and place he went back to watching the office building with much more enthusiasm than before.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Robin was nervous. She had spent most of the afternoon pondering about what she was going to say once Strike got to the pub. She couldn't forget his eyes on her and the way it had made her feel. When she was on her honeymoon with Matthew a year ago, she had tried to figure out whether she was in love with Strike or if it had just something to do with the work they did together. After being single for a while and especially after seeing him with Charlotte the night before, she was sure. She was in love with him. And she didn't think that she could continue pretending that they were just friends.

When she remembered the moment in his office she knew that it wasn't just her. He felt something too. She just didn't know if he just fancied her or if he actually wanted to be with her.

He had texted that he would be a few minutes late, so she had ordered him a pint and a glass of white wine for herself and had sat down at a table in the back. It was a slow night and the pub wasn't bursting like usual.

When he finally entered, he came straight towards her table and sat down. It seemed it had started to rain since Robin came in, because Strike shrugged out of a wet coat and his dark hair was glistening.

"Shit weather", he mumbled before he took a long swig from his pint. "Thanks for this Robin. That's exactly what I needed."

"So, how was the rest of your day?" Neutral territory was always a good start. In her experience, it was much easier to turn from small talk to the serious topics than to come straight to the point. And it gave her a chance to take a few more sips from her wine.

"Nothing much. The guy left at his usual time and went straight home. We might need a few more weeks and maybe some undercover work to get to the truth. You up for it?" Strike asked her.

"Sure", Robin agreed. "I always wanted to work at a bank." The twinkle in her eyes told him that she was being ironic.

"Thought so." He looked at her more closely and suddenly felt that an update on their respective cases was not the only reason she had asked for a drink tonight. He didn't know whether this knowledge should make him hopeful or fill him with dread. What if she couldn't continue working with him if there was not enough professionalism between them? He steeled himself for whatever would come. He knew that he would do anything to keep her at the agency; whatever his personal feelings were on the topic. But he was in no rush to get to the point where their relationship would change fundamentally. One way or the other.

So, they continued with the small talk. Strike told her about the trip he had planned for Jack, his nephew, and himself. After he had nearly died because of a ruptured appendix a few months ago, Strike had actually kept his promise to spend more time with the boy. It turned out that not all children were as annoying as he had originally thought.

Robin in turn told him about her family. Strike had met them at her wedding and was keen on getting the latest news from the Ellacott's home. He couldn't exactly explain why, but he had liked her brothers and parents.

"Comoran", Robin began after he had returned with a second round of drinks. "Can I ask you something?"

But before he could reply his phone started to ring. Instinct made him take it out and answer it before he had even realised that Robin had been about to ask him something.

"This is Strike." He hadn't checked the caller ID. He threw an apologetic look towards her.

"Cormoran? Can you come?" He chastised himself for not checking the number. Charlotte was the last person he wanted to talk to right now.

"It's really not a good time right now. Can I call you back in the morning?" Robin tried to hide her curiosity, but Strike could see in her face that she knew who was on the other end of the line.

"I need you now. The police are here, and they want to arrest me. I haven't done anything, but they don't believe me. Can you please come and tell them that they are making a mistake? You know better than anyone that I'm innocent. You said so yourself." How was it possible that this woman always found a way back into his life? And always at the most inopportune times. He was looking at Robin from the corner of his eyes. She had taken out her phone and was reading something on it. He knew that she would be disappointed if he left her now to go back to his ex-girlfriend. And she would have every right to be. But he also knew that he couldn't just leave Charlotte hanging.

"Do what the police says, I'll be there as soon as possible." With that he ended the call and saw Robin look up. It wasn't just disappointment in her features – it was anger.

"You have to leave?" she asked him coldly. "Because Charlotte called?"

"I'm sorry. She is being arrested and needs my help." Strike started to gather his coat.

"And the moment she calls, you just jump? I thought you were past that. I thought that you and her…", she couldn't finish the thought. She had been about to tell him the truth. To make herself more vulnerable than she had ever been, especially with him. And he was just going to leave her sitting there. Thankfully, she was quicker on her feet and so, she grabbed her coat and left as fast as she could out the pub door into a downpour outside.

"Great", she said to herself as she started moving to the nearest station.

"Robin, wait!" She heard him exit the pub but didn't turn around. "Robin!" He continued calling her and when people started looking at her judgingly she finally halted. He caught up with her and grabbed both her arms so to not lose his balance.

"What did you want to ask me?" Robin focused on a wall just behind Strike so as to avoid looking at him directly.

"Doesn't matter. Just let me go home, please?" Strike was standing very close before her, she realised. His warmth gave her comfort in the cold rain and in her head, she marked her body as a traitor to her mind.

"Please tell me what you wanted to say." His voice was soft and finally she looked into his eyes with a hint of defiance.

"Why? Why now? A few minutes ago, you couldn't have cared less and suddenly you want to know? You should go to Charlotte. She needs you apparently." With that she stepped out of his grip and continued down the street.

"You know this is unfair, right? It's too easy for you to run away from me." He had started to follow her, but his leg had had better days and he limped a bit behind her.

"Oh, _I'm_ running away? That's rich", she had stopped again and looked at him angrily. Her voice had started to get a bit louder, so he could hear her over the rain. "The moment I tried to talk to you about something serious you use the first excuse to bail. Why did you take that call? Couldn't you spare me even a few minutes? You don't deserve to know what I wanted to say, you selfish bastard!"

For all her rage he remained surprisingly calm. "You're right. I _am_ selfish and I don't deserve you. But please, Robin. Please tell me what you wanted to say." His voice had taken on an imploring tone and he took a tentative step towards her. "Please."

It was mostly the hint of desperation that had crept into his voice that made her start talking. "Do you remember my wedding day?"

Strike looked confused. He hadn't expected this. "Who could forget?", he said with a hint of an encouraging smile to keep her talking.

"Do you remember when you were about to leave… outside on the stairs?" Robin looked into his eyes to see if he would think about the same moment.

He had been about to leave the party when Robin had stopped her wedding dance and followed him outside. There they had shared a hug that had felt more significant than anything else in their relationship up to this point. He remembered the scent of white roses and the feeling of her body pressed to his. He had thought about that hug for a long time and asked himself why he hadn't asked her to leave with him. But he had been a coward back then. Maybe he still was. Otherwise, maybe she hadn't stayed with Matthew for a year and he hadn't distracted himself with Lorelei.

"I remember", he said.

Robin suddenly felt that the point of no return had arrived. If she would stop now they could forget the whole thing and continue as they were – as partners and friends. But she had to know. She gathered all of her courage and continued: "I wanted to run away with you that day." Strike opened his mouth in surprise and started to say something, but she bade him to keep quiet. She had to get through this now or never. "I knew the marriage was a mistake, but I couldn't let my parents down so I agreed to go on the honeymoon to figure out if we had any chance. For days I went walking along the empty beaches, not thinking of how a future could look with Matthew, but whether or not I was in love with you." At that she could see his eyes widen at the implication.

"One night I called you from a landline. I wanted to know if you had felt the same thing I had on those stairs, but you were with some woman and I realised that it must have been imagination on my part."

Here, Strike had to say something. "That was you? I never could figure out…", he trailed off as he saw her looking annoyed at his interruption. "Sorry."

"Even though you didn't seem to think about me that way, I had realised that I could not stay married to Matthew. I wanted an annulment and was prepared to tell him so, but when I got back to our room…" The memory was still difficult for her, since it had cost her a year of her life.

"He was sick and you decided to stay", Strike finished her thought and she nodded. He longed to take her hand, to touch her to comfort her, but he sensed that Robin wanted to get through this by herself.

"Anyway", she said as if to get back to the point, "I tried to make it work, but I wasn't very successful – evidently. And I couldn't forget that hug. When Matthew and I broke up I felt so relieved. It was as if a burden had been lifted. I could finally be, who I wanted to be and you and I were just starting to be friends again. And that was great. Amazing even. I hadn't realised how much Matthew's constant negativity had weighed me down, until he was gone. And you were great these last few months. I wouldn't have known what to do without you. Seems to be a trait the women in your life share", she added with a small laugh thinking of Charlotte telling him the exact same thing just one day earlier.

"And everything was fine. Really. I was happy, I had friends and I had convinced myself that whatever feelings I had for you were as much connected to the job as they were to you. But earlier today in the office, we had this moment." She tried to find some kind of recognition in his face, an acknowledgement that this had actually happened and not just in her head.

"We did", he agreed and his eyes started to turn darker the same way they had before.

Robin was suddenly frightened of that intensity. What if she was making a horrible mistake in telling him all this? What if he just wanted to shag her and hoped they could find a similar arrangement as his last two girlfriends? She had to take that risk.

"So, I guess, what I am trying to say is, I understood myself for the first time in a long time in that moment. I know now what I want and that is why I wanted to talk to you tonight. I'm tired of pretending to be just friends. I'm tired of ignoring my feelings that have been there for a long time. And I know that this might be potentially disastrous for our agency, because once it's out in the open I cannot take it back, but I don't care. So here it is", Robin made a slight pause to gather the last pieces of courage she had left. Strike looked at her silently and full of anticipation. He had to know what was coming, but until she actually said it, everything could have just been a cruel joke on her part. But she wanted him to know. "I'm in love with you."

The words hung between them bare and irreversible. Robin had never told someone these words. With Matthew they had just started to say I Love You after a certain point, but she couldn't remember being in love with him.

Strike was stunned. He had expected her to admit to feelings, but not like this. This beautiful, courageous and intelligent woman was in love with him? It seemed ridiculous. He realised she was waiting for his response.

Even though he had kept telling himself that it was a stupid idea he took a tentative step towards her. When she didn't move away from him he closed the distance between them. His right hand cupped her face when he gazed into her grey blue eyes. With his other hand he brushed some of her wet hair from her face.

"I know this is a bad idea…", Robin began to speak, but Strike interrupted her. "I don't care." And then he kissed her. It was soft and tentative. He felt her warm lips mingle with the cold rain. After a few moments he broke apart to see if he had made a mistake. Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked at him. Tears were starting to form in her eyes and he started to panic.

"Oh god! Sorry, Robin. I didn't mean to… I mean, you said it was a bad idea, and I just… I just wanted to do that for so long." He felt like a teenager who had just had his first kiss and didn't know what to do.

A small smile started to form on her lips. "I'm glad you did. Otherwise, I would have felt like fool."

"Can I kiss you again then?" She nodded and met him in the middle. He put his arms around her and pressed her close to him. They stood there in the pouring rain and kissed. The few people who were still out in this weather that watched them either thought that the couple must be so romantic or that they would die soon from hypothermia.

When they finally broke apart again he still kept her tight in his arms. "I want to do this right."

"What do you mean?" Robin asked, enjoying his embrace and still feeling a bit light-headed after that kiss.

"You know I'm the worst when it comes to relationships." He could see her raise her eyebrows in mock surprise. "I was a horrible boyfriend most of the time and you don't deserve to be treated like that. So, I want to do this right. Take you to dinner or to the movies and take my time – with everything. I don't want the job to always come first. I want this to work."

Robin felt incredibly touched. "So, you are not scared that in two weeks we realise that this will fall apart and it will inevitably damage our work?"

"Course I am", Strike said. "I know the odds are not exactly in our favour, but I'm willing to find out", he paused. "How about you?"

The smile that had been steadily growing was now out in full force. She beamed at him. "Dinner sounds lovely."

He laughed relieved.

"Do you still need to go to the police?" She had almost forgotten about the phone call that made her come out here in the first place. But now that it was back on her mind it put a little damper on her mood.

"Unfortunately, yes. Something doesn't feel right", Strike paused as if in thought. "Do you wanna come with me?" He knew that this was a stupid idea. To take the woman he had just kissed for the first time to see his ex-girlfriend was far from ideal.

For some reason it meant a lot to Robin that he had asked and didn't want to hide that part of him. "Ok, yeah. Let's go."

With a smile that couldn't express the happiness he felt in that moment, he put his arm around her shoulder and tugged her close to him and together they made their way to the tube.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

A short train ride later, they emerged from Charing Cross station into the misty London night.

"Thank god it stopped raining", Strike said as they started to make their way to Scotland Yard. "Was a bit much for a first kiss, don't you think?"

Robin snorted out a laugh at that. _It had been rather cliché, to be honest_ , she thought. But right now she didn't care. Right now she felt surprisingly calm in spite of everything that had just happened. She had told him the truth and he felt the same. Even though he didn't share his exact feelings with her, she hadn't expected him to. Cormoran Strike was not really someone who wore his heart on his sleeve. Instead he had told her that he wanted to make this work. And that was, for her, a far greater declaration. Because it was exactly the opposite of what his last two relationships were like. Not that she had much knowledge of either but there is only so much you can hide when you work together this closely.

She stole a quick look towards him just to remind herself that this was actually real.

"Everything alright?", he asked with his gruff sounding voice.

"Yeah", she answered with a smile. "Surprisingly, it is."

"Surprisingly?" Strike actually seemed a bit offended by that.

Robin looked at him while they continued down the street. "To be honest, I thought I would have freaked out right about now."

"Why's that?" Strike halted on the wet pavement. This direction of the conversation seemed to rattle him somewhat. His eyes were moving over her features to find some sign of regret.

Robin realised that her talk about freak-outs made him actually freak out a little bit. "You know that I'm not the best when it comes to decision making. And usually, I always ask myself if it was the right choice. Somehow, right now, I don't."

"Thank god", Strike exclaimed relieved. "But I know what you mean. As if it is a bit too easy, too good to be true."

Robin nodded. It felt strange to her that she didn't panic. She hoped it would stay that way. It was a nice change for once. She tugged at his arm and started to walk again. "Come on, let's get your ex-girlfriend out of prison."

"Ha ha", he said and followed her.

"Not you two again!" Wardle had stopped in the middle of a corridor when he spotted them exiting the lift.

Strike hadn't really had time to think about how he wanted to approach the situation. In truth, he had no right to be here and interfere. The police would say he could not be objective when it came to Charlotte, because of their shared past. They might be right, but he also couldn't just leave her to fight for herself. She would get into trouble sooner or later. She always did. So, here he was. Again.

"What did you charge her with?", Strike asked Wardle when they had found a quieter place to talk.

"Nothing yet. She was a bit over-enthusiastic when she told you we would arrest her. We only brought her in again for questioning. We got the time of death and that didn't put her in a good situation.", Wardle looked around a bit nervously. He was friends with Strike and they had helped each other in the past with different cases. But that didn't mean that it was appreciated that he shared confidential information with a private detective. Especially not in the middle of Scotland Yard.

"Time of death was around 10 pm", Wardle continued after making sure that no one was around, "That's the time Mrs. Ross came home according to her statement. That puts her right in the middle of the act. It would also explain, why Jago Ross would turn his back to his murderer."

Strike rubbed his face. Nothing made sense. Why would Charlotte kill her husband? If she wanted to get rid of him she had other means at her disposal. People in her circles had access to the best lawyers that would get them whatever they wanted. Murder usually wasn't the go to solution. It just didn't feel right.

"Do you have any other evidence that she killed him?"

"Nobody is saying she did", Wardle repeated annoyed. "She had the means, but we're not sure yet about any motive. When we are through here, she is free to go home again. Maybe you should talk to her tomorrow."

He made to go and Strike couldn't think of anything to add to that. He got played by her. That bothered him. The same trap had ensnared him again and he hadn't even realised it. So much for thinking he was free of her and wouldn't get sucked into her games. He would heed Wardle's advice and talk to her tomorrow. He had to at least know what all of this was about.

"Thanks for your time, Wardle. Will do."

They left the station and walked a few minutes in silence. The streets were starting to dry. It hadn't started raining again. Strike suddenly felt Robin's hand slip into his and he turned to look at her.

"Do you find it weird that I need to talk to her about this?", he asked her.

Robin shook her head. "No", she simply said.

"Why not?", he asked, confused.

"I think you need to do this. She was a big part of your life and you never got the chance to actually finish that chapter in any way. Maybe you need it." She had stopped now, her hand still in his. He didn't do hand holding in public. Never had. But her warm fingers gave him strength and he didn't want to let go. Impulsively, he bent down and kissed her. It was over before she even realised what had happened, but a small "o" stayed on her lips showing her surprise.

"Thanks Robin. That means a lot." She smiled at him in a way he hadn't seen her smile before. It felt like it was just for him, which was stupid of course, but he couldn't help it. He was crazy about her and here she was: in front of him, beautiful and still a bit wet from the downpour earlier. It was a moment he could have stayed in forever, but he knew that the real world was never very far away. And so, apparently, did Robin.

"I check with Barclay that he is back on the banker, I will stay with the wife and you go talk to Charlotte. Wanna meet up for lunch tomorrow and you can tell me all about what you found out?" Strike didn't miss that she hadn't included herself in the trip to Charlotte's.

"You don't want to come with me to see her?", he asked.

Robin had to laugh a bit at his confused expression. "No. You do that by yourself and tell me afterwards what happened."

"Alright. And lunch sounds great. I'll text you."

Quicker than they might have liked they had reached the entrance to the tube.

"I guess this is goodbye for tonight?", Strike asked, a little hopeful that she would suddenly decide to just come with him into his tiny flat in Denmark Street. But even though there was nothing that he would want more right now than to have Robin come home with him, he knew that that would be a bad idea. For both of them. It hadn't just been a romantic thing to say that he wanted to take his time and do things right. He usually fell into relationships without thinking much of the consequences. That had to stop. She was important to him and he didn't want to jeopardise what was just starting between them by acting like his usual insensitive self.

Robin stood on her tiptoes and quickly kissed him on the mouth. "See you tomorrow."

And with that she turned and walked towards her train. Strike stood there following her with his eyes until she turned a corner. Just before she vanished out of sight she looked back and gave him another of these smiles he had discovered tonight. Feeling uncommonly content, he walked towards the train that would get him home.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

When Robin got home she heard voices from the kitchen but decided to just pop her head in the door for a quick 'Hello' and then made her way to her own room. She wasn't ready yet to talk to anyone about what had happened and Noah was perceptive. He would realise immediately that something was different and would want to know all the juicy details. Just for tonight she wanted to keep this to herself. She felt that talking about it would somehow diminish the significance of the events of the evening. Robin knew that it was only a matter of time, before everyone else found out. She might be good at impersonating other people to fool clients who didn't know her, but her friends? They would see right through her.

So instead, she went straight to bed and thought about the past few hours. A smile crept unto her face when she remembered the feeling of his lips on hers. It had felt right. His strong arms had encircled her and made her feel safe and now she was a bit annoyed with herself that she hadn't taken his hint to join him in his flat. She could still be in his arms, enjoying his scent of cigarettes, beer and something else that was particular to him. But it would have been a mistake. It was always easy to think about what could have been when it hadn't happened yet. Just because she hadn't freaked out yet, didn't mean that it wouldn't have happened in his small flat where they would have inevitably ended up in the bedroom. And she didn't think she was ready for that yet. Not that she hadn't wanted to – she had for a long time actually - but she knew it was too early. And it seemed he understood that and maybe even felt the same. Why else would he say that he wanted to take his time? Maybe that was the reason she wasn't freaking out. There was no pressure to satisfy something. They could just take it slow and see where it would go.

It didn't surprise her that the absence of pressure made her feel at ease. With Matthew there had always been pressure. When would they get a bigger flat or a new car? And when would they take the next steps in their relationship? Nothing had time to develop on its own. Every milestone had to be achieved in a certain timeframe. Robin realised that she had been lying to herself about her past relationship a lot longer than the last two years since she had met Strike. They were never in the same headspace about the future. She should have ended it a long time ago, but also knew that she hadn't had the strength back then. She had been too dependent and she now recognised that that hadn't been fair to Matthew either. Not that it excused anything he did, but she contributed to the failing of their relationship as well.

And now she was about to enter the next one. But she had changed. She had friends besides Strike that she could talk to and who would help her in times of need. Even if whatever she had with Strike didn't work out in the end, she was sure that she had the courage to face the consequences. Tonight she had told him about her feelings even though it had scared her to do so and everything had worked out. Trust and honesty would be her mantras going from here.

With these thoughts filling Robin's head she fell asleep.

Cormoran Strike got up the next day and made his way to Kensington to talk to Charlotte. There were a lot of things he would rather do - most of them involved Robin in some capacity - but he had to face her. And the sooner he got the truth from her the sooner he could go back to his life.

He hadn't slept very well last night. Too much had happened for his brain to relax and let him drift off to sleep. It bothered him that it wasn't just thoughts of Robin and their shared moments the night before that had kept him awake. Maybe it was the possibility of this new relationship that made him think of the past. Robin was not like Elin or Lorelei. He was serious about her and that scared him. He hadn't been serious about any of his last girlfriends, much to their chagrin. Charlotte was the first and only woman he had been with that he had actually loved. And it had ended in disaster. Multiple times. He was not keen on repeating that now. But Robin was different. In a lot of aspects she was the polar opposite of Charlotte, and in a way even of the other women he had been with. He remembered the way her body had felt pressed against his in the rain and immediately he was sure again that they could make it work. Everything about her in his arms had felt right. So, he would concentrate on that and ignore the small doubts in the back of his mind that always plagued him.

He arrived at Charlotte's door shortly after 9 o'clock and rang the doorbell. After a few moments he heard movements and was greeted by a young woman with a sleeping baby on her arm.

"Hello. My name's Cormoran Strike. I'm a private detective-", Strike began but was quickly interrupted.

"I know who you are", the woman said gruffly and made space to let him enter before closing the door behind him. "She said you might come. She is in the living room, through there." She indicated down a corridor to his left, where he could see a door ajar with light coming out of the adjoining room.

"And you are?", Strike asked turning back towards her and the baby.

"Pippa Harris. I'm the nanny", she answered.

"Oh, so you were here the night Ross died?" Strike hoped that he could get a clearer picture of what happened before he talked to Charlotte.

"I was. But I didn't see or hear anything. That's also what I told the police." She was keen to get that out of the way so she wouldn't have to answer the same questions again that had no doubt been asked by the police more than once.

"Can you remember when you woke up the night of the murder?" When Strike had come to the house two nights ago, Charlotte had told him the nanny had still been asleep.

"It must have been about 10.30. A policewoman woke me up and told me what had happened." She shifted the baby, who was still fast asleep, slightly on her arm and continued, "I can't believe that I didn't notice anything. But the police said that he must have known the murderer, so maybe that's why."

Strike nodded. "This must be a stupid question, but can I ask, why is a young woman in bed and fast asleep at 10 pm?"

"If you have to take care of two babies who never want the same things at the same time you use the time you have to sleep." She started to move away, clearly irritated at his ignorance. Strike realised that Pippa Harris probably spent the most time out of the people in this house with the twins, whose names he didn't even know.

"Course. Sorry for that. I think I will just go to…" He trailed off and pointed vaguely in the direction of the open door.

"Do that. She has been waiting for you." Without a goodbye she turned around and left him standing in the corridor.

He knocked on the door and entered without waiting for an invitation. The room was large and bright from the morning sun coming in through the tall windows. Charlotte sat on a sofa in the middle of the room looking through a small book and taking notes.

"Hello Charlotte", Strike started. Only when he spoke did she seem to realise she wasn't alone anymore. To everybody else this would seem like a natural reaction, but he knew better. She had known he had been in the house the moment he had sat foot into it. He was also sure that she had heard his conversation with Pippa outside. "You haven't been arrested then, I gather?", he asked sarcastically.

"I must have misunderstood something. Everything was so confusing and I just didn't know who else to call." Her voice was small, as if to emphasise her apparent helplessness.

"Must have." He started to walk through the room giving him something to do.

"Have you come to help me then or are you just here to annoy me?" Charlotte had given up on playing the sad widow, understanding that this wouldn't work on Strike and turned towards him.

"Bit of both, I reckon'. You seemed rather desperate to get my help. Just tell me everything so we can both stop wasting our time." He had been standing behind the sofa she was sitting on. On her indication he took the seat opposite her on a wing chair. Between them stood a coffee table with an immaculate glass surface.

"Nobody's forcing you to be here, darling." The old defiance he knew so well had crept back into her voice. He didn't react and just waited for her to continue. After a few moments she lost her patience and did so. "Nothing about my story has changed. I came home and he was dead. Apparently it had happened quite recently when I entered the room. I didn't notice anything suspicious."

"Could the police have any reason to think you had motive to kill your husband?", Strike asked.

"Jago was having an affair." Strike was surprised at that. They hadn't been married that long and just had two babies. Shouldn't Ross have had his hands full?

"Don't look so shocked, Cormoran", Charlotte continued, "I didn't really care. He wasn't too happy when he found out that we had been to lunch in public and I guess he wanted to hurt me in return."

Strike remembered the day Charlotte had cornered him in an art gallery and then made him go to a nearby restaurant for everyone to see. She had orchestrated the whole affair.

"And it didn't bother you?", he asked.

"No", she answered simply. "I told you, I had made a mistake in marrying him. I want you. Nobody else." She had leant a bit forward to emphasise her last point.

"We're in the past, Charlotte. Everything between us has been gone for a long time." He didn't want to talk about their personal relationship. That was not why he had come here today.

"Nothing is gone. We have been together for too long to just forget everything we had. I still love you. And I know you love me too." She looked sincere and that made him nervous. She had been part of his life for so long that he knew she would never be entirely gone from his mind. And he also knew that a part of him would always love her. She was too ingrained into his consciousness to just ignore that. But that didn't mean he could still be with her. Too much had happened – between them and with Strike himself. He wasn't the same anymore.

"I didn't come here today to talk about us. You asked for my help. Do you still want it?", Strike said after a moment.

Charlotte seemed to recognise that she was not going to get a reaction from him to her declaration. She could live with that. She hadn't expected it to be easy to get him back. "I would like your help, yes. I want to employ you to find out who killed Jago. And don't look at me like that. Jago and I have a joined account, so it's as much as if he would pay you to solve his own murder."

"I'm not sure he would have liked that." Strike had been about to decline any kind of payment, but common sense got the better of him. This would probably take some time and even though the agency was doing quite well for itself at the moment that didn't mean it would stay that way indefinitely. And there was still the issue that he was living above his office in two tiny rooms. Maybe it was about time that he found a proper flat.

"Alright", he agreed. "Just two more things: Do you know who your husband had an affair with?"

"No", Charlotte answered. "It hadn't been going on for long though."

"How did you find out?", Strike continued.

"The usual. Late nights at the office, female perfume on him that wasn't mine, lipstick on his collar. It didn't need a private detective to understand what it meant."

He ignored the belittling of his profession. "I see. And the second thing: Can you give me the contact for his assistant. I would like to talk to him soon."

"His name is Malcolm Thomas. You actually just missed him", Strike looked surprised at that. It was rather early for her dead husband's assistant to come to her house, he thought.

"I write down his number, but you can probably find him at Jago's office. Here's the address." She handed him a piece of paper with the information.

Strike used this cue for his exit and stood up.

"How's your leg?" Charlotte had stood as well and came around the coffee table to his chair.

Very aware of her sudden closeness, he tried to ignore the warmth emanating from her body and attempted to free himself from the situation with less grace than he would have wanted. "'S alright. Still the same as always, thanks."

"I know a specialist who could take a look at it if you want. There has been a lot of development in the field. Maybe he has something to help you." She was still standing in front of him without moving.

"It's fine, thanks." With that he put his hands on her arms and slightly moved her so he could pass and made his way out of the room and to the front door. Before he could open it though, Charlotte had caught up with him.

"You know, the little redhead is not going to make you happy. You will realise that soon enough when you are as bored by her as you've been by all the other women you have been with. None of them can give you what you need."

He had dreaded her mentioning Robin and so he just said: "If you say so", and opened the door to step through, but was stopped again by Charlotte grabbing his arm.

"This isn't over you know." She kept her grip firm and looked into his eyes.

For one second he was transported back to their times together. Not everything had been drama and deceit; otherwise he wouldn't have spent more or less sixteen years with her. It would be the easiest thing to rekindle their relationship. She was like a drug to him, like an addiction and he had been clean for two years now. But he wasn't sure it had been long enough to not be in danger of a relapse anymore.

"Goodbye Charlotte. I'll let you know what I find out." With that he stepped out of her grip and descended down the front steps without looking back.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Robin and Strike met in a pub opposite the gym their client's wife frequented every day. She had entered 20 minutes earlier and usually spent about an hour working out. That left them with plenty of time to catch up.

After the easy intimacy the night before their greeting today had been a bit awkward, since neither knew exactly how they were supposed to act now. In the end, they had settled on a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Is she here everyday?", Strike began, referring to the blond woman in her twenties, jogging on a treadmill and visible through an enormous glass window from their seats in the pub.

"Three times a week. The other days she meets friends or goes shopping. Nothing exceptional yet. I think I might have to become a member for a bit and get her talking. Maybe something will come of it. Might interfere with the banker though", Robin added, remembering Strike asking her to go undercover at the bank a few days earlier.

"We can find someone for that. We might need someone else anyway, since I just agreed to find Jago Ross' killer" he said hesitantly, scared that she might get mad that he made Charlotte a permanent fixture in their life for the foreseeable future.

Robin had been keeping one eye on their target during this exchange, but now focused her gaze on him. "Well, at least we'll get paid right? Otherwise, you would have interfered with a police investigation on your own and probably given Wardle an aneurism", she said winking at him with a sheepish smile.

"Might still do that though", Strike replied.

"That's true." Robin took another swig from her drink and grinned at him.

At that moment the waiter brought them their food and for a few minutes they ate in silence.

"How was it?" Robin had wanted to ask that the moment Strike had arrived but felt that it would have been too straightforward.

"The whole thing is strange. Around the time of death there were two women in the house and none saw or heard anything. And there are no other witnesses who could corroborate their stories. So, for now we have to take their word for it."

"What do you think happened?", she asked. "Do you think one of them had something to do with the murder?"

"Not really, no." At this Robin cocked an eyebrow. "Don't look at me like that", Strike continued, "I know I sound biased when I say I don't think Charlotte did it, but it's just not her style. I don't know about the nanny yet, but she didn't seem the murdering kind either."

She thought a moment about what he had just told her and then nodded. "Alright. I trust your judgement. But can we agree if something weird turns up you will at least listen to me? I don't know her at all, but sometimes you need an outsider's perspective."

"Seems fair", Strike agreed. "She gave me the contact info for Jago's assistant. Wanted to pop over there later. D'you have time?", Strike asked nodding his head towards the gym.

"I think so. Let's say around 4? Then I'll be done with her for the day." She had just finished the last bite of her salad.

"Great", he replied happily.

They spent another few minutes in comfortable silence while he finished his fish and chips.

"Robin?", Strike started, but was interrupted by the waiter getting their plates.

"Yeah?", she answered when they were alone again.

"How come you seem to be fine with us doing a job for Charlotte? I mean, don't get me wrong, it's great, but I imagined that it might bother you." He was now looking at her, awaiting her answer.

"I trust you. I hope if something would happen that I need to know about, you would tell me." And it was true. She _did_ trust him. They had gotten to a point where they didn't need to have secrets from each other anymore. At least that's what she hoped.

"Well then, in all honesty, be prepared that she will be trying to manipulate you. She keeps telling me that she wants me back", he trailed off.

"Do _you_ want her back?", Robin asked without a hint of anger in her face, just curiosity and a bit of trepidation.

"Would I think about kissing you again, the whole time we have been sitting here, if I did?" He saw her blush a little at that. "How about we repeat that tomorrow night?", he asked. "I remember you agreeing to dinner." He enjoyed her flustered expression.

"I would love to", she answered him, smiling. She could feel butterflies in her stomach at the thought of dressing up for him and going on an actual date. She hadn't done that in ten years. _It's food and conversation. How hard can it be?_ she asked herself. Maybe she should call Vanessa, just in case.

He grinned at her as they stood up from the table.

"I think I might need to run", she said, looking towards the entrance of the gym, where the wife had just emerged ready for her afternoon.

"I'll text you the details for later." With that he gave her a kiss on the cheek, where he lingered a bit longer than he needed to.

"See you then", Robin said, giving him a quick smile and starting after the woman that had started walking down the street towards a taxi.

Jago Ross had been working in a consulting firm in The City in one of the interchangeable office buildings. Strike had always asked himself what this actually entailed. Maybe he would learn something today.

While he finished his second cigarette since he got here, he saw the familiar head of red-golden hair hurrying around a corner not too far away.

"Sorry", Robin said rather breathlessly, "She actually met with a young man today that I hadn't seen before and as much as it pains me to say - but it seems the husband was right. She is cheating. I'll show you the pictures later", she added quickly.

"Good work, Robin. Too bad, she couldn't have kept him a secret a bit longer. On the brightside, we might not have to stretch us too thin to have all our cases covered", Strike gave her an appraising smile and turned his head towards the entrance. "Shall we?"

Together they made their way into a lobby made entirely from exposed concrete. Everything radiated a feeling of coldness and distance. Strike couldn't understand how people chose to work in an environment as this. Even though his office wasn't much, Robin had made it homely and comfortable and he enjoyed spending time there. Here, he wanted to leave again as quickly as possible.

After they told the man at the registration who they were here to see, they took the lift up to the 12th floor and emerged into a blindingly bright office space. Nearly everything was white. It gave the whole place a clinical look.

"Looks like a dentist's office", Strike said under his breath before they were approached by a young man in a well-tailored blue suit. He looked about 28 and was rather attractive, as Strike had to admit to himself. He was tall and lean build, with wild and dark curls framing his face.

"You must be Cormoran Strike", the man started, "I am Malcolm Thomas. Charlotte called that I might be expecting you today."

The two men shook hands before Strike introduced Robin as his partner.

Thomas immediately made them follow him through different white corridors until they arrived at a little conference room. "What can I do for you?"

"You worked for Jago Ross?", Strike began. Thomas nodded, so he continued, "Do you know of anyone who would have had a grudge against him?"

"Not really, no. I mean he was very successful at his job. He probably had ruffled a few feathers here and there, but nothing significant." Thomas had sat down opposite them with the conference table between them. To Strike it felt like an interrogation.

"Maybe it was something personal", Robin interjected. "You worked very closely with him I assume. Did you ever see or hear anything suspicious?"

"Not that I can remember", he answered. "He was a happy, attractive man with an amazing wife and beautiful children. Who would have anything against that?"

Robin thought she had heard a slight irony in his voice. It must be hard to always just be the assistant. This young man had aspirations of his own, no doubt.

"What are you going to do now?", she continued.

"Don't know yet. I don't think there is anything for me here. I'm going to finish up Jago's last projects and then I will figure out what I want to do with myself." He smiled at her a little as he answered.

"So you don't want to stay in consulting?", Strike asked, emphasising the last word as if it were something bad.

"That was always Jago's forte. I just took care of his day-to-day life." Strike seemed to be content with this answer and continued, "Why were you at the Ross' house this morning?"

Robin had shifted imperceptibly, if you didn't know what to look for. He had forgotten to tell her this bit of information. They would have to go through everything later again anyway. He would fill her in then. Maybe they could get a pint and do a little rehearsal date.

"I just wanted to see if everything was alright with Charlotte and the kids. I had heard that the police had talked to her again", Thomas answered. "But she didn't need my help, so I came here instead to do some work."

"Alright. Thanks, Mr. Thomas", Strike shuffled in his seat as if to get up. "One last thing: Did you know, Jago Ross had an affair?"

The young man's features remained unmoving. No sign of surprise at this line of enquiry. "Yes. But don't ask me with whom. He always sent me home early when she came over."

Strike was standing now with the other two following swiftly.

"Actually, one more thing", Strike began suddenly, as if he just remembered something, "Did you know of any appointments he had on the night of the murder?"

Thomas shook his head. "If he had any they weren't in his calendar."

"And you didn't have a meeting with him either that night, I assume?", Strike continued.

"If you are asking for my alibi for the time of death", he didn't seem to mind being put in the category of a suspect, "I was out with friends. There are a few people who can corroborate this and I gave all the names to the police already."

Strike nodded. "Thanks for your time", he repeated. "We'll be in touch."

Thomas left them at the lift and vanished into the endless maze of white walls.

"He was remarkably calm", Robin said when the doors had closed behind them. "Maybe they didn't have such a great relationship."

"Maybe", Strike answered. "Listen, shall we go to the pub and I tell you everything I forgot earlier?" He knew that she didn't appreciate not being in the loop completely so he wanted to make it up to her.

Robin realised immediately that he must have noticed her confusion earlier.

"Would love to, but I can't", she replied, seeing the disappointment on his face. "I promised Noah that I would read lines with him tonight. He'll kill me if I don't show up."

"And we wouldn't want that", he said with a grin. "Then I'll see you tomorrow night?"

Strike had given Barclay the next day off and would have to take over surveillance of the banker. He probably wouldn't make it to the office all day, where Robin was going to be now that she had caught the wife in flagrante.

"Looking forward to it." He still couldn't believe that this incredible woman wanted to be with him. Unable to rid himself of his stupid grin he said goodbye to her with the now familiar kiss on the cheek and made his way home thinking about the following evening.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Robin was standing in front of the big mirror she and Noah had in their living room.

"Isn't this too fancy?", she asked her audience, consisting of her flat mate and Vanessa, her friend from the Met. Currently, she was wearing a slim black mini dress that looked great, but made her feel way too formal. Not that she knew exactly what to expect tonight to dress appropriately, but she couldn't imagine Strike taking her out to a posh restaurant. It just wasn't his style.

"No!", they shouted simultaneously.

"You look gorgeous in that dress", Vanessa continued with Noah nodding his assent. "He won't be able to take his eyes off of you."

Robin turned back towards the mirror and examined herself. She did look good, but she didn't feel like she looked herself. This dress somehow felt distant and cold. Not exactly the feeling she was hoping to convey this evening. "I'm going to try the other one again", she said abruptly and left the other two to bemoan her indecision.

She didn't own many dresses since she usually preferred trousers, but she had bought one with a floral print a few years ago while on a visit in Masham. It felt like the right occasion to finally wear it.

She went out into the living room again, happy with her decision. The other two agreed after a few twirls and seeing Robin feeling at ease.

"Where is he taking you then", Noah asked after Robin had sat down on one of the chairs.

"I have no idea. He asked me to meet him at Covent Garden and then we will go from there", she answered. She had received a text from Strike a few hours earlier. It had just told her the time and where to meet. No information about where they were going. Which made the dress decision so difficult. But what to wear was the least of her problems. She hadn't been on a date in years. Actually, she hadn't been on a date period. And especially not with someone like Strike. They couldn't just have small talk and slowly get to know each other. She had known him for two years. What if they didn't have anything to talk about? He didn't really share much about his life and she didn't want to pry. Not on a night like this. She just hoped that they had more interests in common than the job.

"What's wrong, love?", Noah said, noticing her sudden thoughtfulness.

Robin looked up, realizing that she hadn't heard a single thing the other two had just said to her. "Nothing. I'm just a bit nervous, that's all."

"Don't be. You already know each other's worst sides. That's the best way to start a relationship", Vanessa said trying to comfort her. And she was right. Robin did know most of his worst sides. There might be things in his past he didn't want to share, but that was fine. She knew what kind of man he was. And anyway, they had agreed. If this didn't work out, they would just go back to how things were before.

"You're right", Robin agreed. "Probably", she added with a grin, finishing the rest of the wine she had shared with the other two. They had insisted that a bit of liquid courage was never a bad idea. "I think I should get going." She picked up her bag and said goodbye to her friends.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do", Vanessa said as they hugged.

"I know, you two want to take it slow, but as it happens, I am staying the night at a friends house", Noah added as he gave her kiss on the cheek.

"Noah!", Robin exclaimed.

"Don't be so scandalized, darling", Noah continued. "I just wanted to let you know that you have the flat to yourself tonight. Unless, he's being an ass, then you call me and I'll be back here."

She knew it was pointless to explain to him that it wasn't necessary for him to leave. Instead she grabbed her things and made her way to Covent Garden.

Twenty minutes later she emerged from Covent Garden station and started to look for the familiar bulky form of Cormoran Strike. She saw him a few paces away the moment he turned in her direction and recognised her. A smile crept unto her face in anticipation of spending the evening with him. Even though she was nervous what would happen she couldn't deny that she wanted this. Seeing him still gave her a fuzzy feeling, especially now that she knew it wasn't just one-sided.

Robin made her way through a crowd of tourists until she reached him and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. He was as surprised as she was. But she felt this evening required more than a peck on the cheek.

"You look beautiful", Strike said in way of greeting.

He looked great himself, Robin noticed. It wasn't much different from his usual attire, but under the coat she saw a nice shirt and jumper. She told him so.

"So, where are we going?", she asked, curious about his plans.

He put his hands on her back and they started walking towards a little alley.

"I used to come here a lot before I started the agency", he started to explain, heading for a small and cosy looking restaurant. It said 'Cornish Tiger' in black lettering on the white doorframe. "The food's actually not half bad."

"Cormoran? Is that sentimentality from you?" Robin asked teasingly.

"Don't tell anyone", he answered and opened the door for her.

They entered the small dining room and where shown to a table for two at the windows.

"This is lovely", Robin said once they were seated. "Why did you stop coming here?"

"Just didn't have the time. You've seen my eating habits. Not really made for nice dining", he answered with a smile.

"But didn't you take Elin or Lorelei here?", Robin continued hesitantly.

"Nah. I'm not taking just anyone to this place." He said it with a grin, but his eyes were imploring. They were telling her that this was something special. He hadn't considered his past relationships to be important enough to share this bit of his past. But he decided to bring her here for their first dinner together. She blushed a little as she realised the implications of what he had just said.

"A glass of wine to ease the tension?", he asked.

Robin started to laugh. That was exactly what she wanted right now. Not that their interactions up until now had been awkward, but the night was young and just because it started well didn't mean that it would continue that way.

"How was it, growing up in Cornwall?", Robin started after Strike had ordered their drinks.

"It was the most stable time of my childhood. St. Mawes is beautiful and Ted and Joan always looked after us", he began, pausing for a bit. "I think, if I had grown up there completely, I would be a very different man today."

He stated this matter-of-factly, Robin felt. He didn't seem to be unhappy with the man he had become.

"I like who you are", she said, holding his gaze and smiling a little. They seemed to manoeuvre themselves into these moments filled with tension without a way to release it.

"That bloke would probably be pretty boring", Strike added and Robin laughed at that. "But enough about me. What's Martin been up to?" The last he had heard of him, he had punched Matthew in the face at his wedding day. He had had a fondness for the man ever since.

Robin shared a particularly embarrassing story her mother had told her over the phone just a few weeks earlier, which had them laughing until their food arrived. While they ate Robin tried to remember when she had last laughed this hard. Not only her, she couldn't remember Cormoran laughing like this ever. It was like he had left his usual grumpiness at home for the evening and exchanged it with something carefree.

And more than that, he shared a few stories of what he and his sister Lucy were up to when they were children and staying in Cornwall. Most of them had her laughing and gave her a completely new picture of the man sitting opposite her.

"I'm really enjoying this", Robin said in between bites of her Sunday Roast, not specifying if she was talking about the food or the company.

"Me too", Strike replied looking up from his plate and finding her eyes. There was no question what he was talking about. His gaze told her enough.

She suddenly realised how romantic their setting was. A single candle lighted their table for two and they were seated a bit away from the other customers, which gave them a little more privacy. For the first time since she had sat down in the restaurant she realised that she was on an actual date with Cormoran Strike, her business partner, friend and whatever he was slowly becoming now. It confused her a bit that their evening hadn't been awkward so far. Not that they ever had problems talking to each other, at least when it came to work. Personal things were a different matter. They hadn't had the best track record of that in the past, but somehow that wasn't a problem tonight. Every time Robin looked at him she felt her stomach flutter a little. This wasn't the disaster she had dreaded. They were in a bubble without any outside forces interfering and Robin knew that she didn't want this evening to end any time soon.

"When was the last time you were in Cornwall?", she asked, genuinely curious.

"Before I started the agency", Strike answered. "I've been meaning to visit, but you know how it's been the last few years. Not really much time." He hesitated a bit before asking, "Have you ever been?"

Robin was surprised by his question. Was he inviting her to come with him? Or was he just making conversation? "No, never. London is the farthest I've got", she added, smiling. She didn't say that she had always wanted to go, but Matthew hated the country so they usually went somewhere he preferred. She didn't want to give the impression that she wanted him to invite her. But he surprised her a second time in a few minutes.

"Maybe you could come with me, next time?" He was being sincere. This, more than anything, showed her again that he was being serious about their relationship and it made her feel warm inside.

"Yeah. That would be nice", she answered, blushing a little at the sudden intimacy between them.

All too soon they were done with their dessert and out on the street again.

"Thanks, Cormoran. That was a lovely evening", Robin said, turning towards him with a smile on her face.

"Coulda've been worse, I reckon", he agreed with a lopsided grin. "Come on, Ellacott. I'll take you home in style." With that he had signalled a cab and they sat in silence on the backseat, her hand in his, until they arrived at her flat.

Strike indicated to the driver to wait for him, before they exited the car to say goodbye.

"Well… that was…", he started, but forgot what he wanted to say, when he looked at her. Instead he closed the distance between them, brought his arms around her in a tight embrace and kissed her. It felt like coming home.

When they broke away from each other Robin felt her knees weaken a little. Was it normal that every kiss took her breath away like that? In that moment she made a decision, she had promised herself she wouldn't make.

"Do you want to come up for a nightcap?", she asked, blushing at the implication that wouldn't be lost on Strike.

He hesitated. They had said to take things slow and going with her now was the exact opposite. But hadn't they waited long enough already?

"Are you sure?" He wanted to give her the opportunity to change her mind. Otherwise, after that night there would be no going back.

Robin just smiled and nodded in response.

After having paid the driver, who gave Strike an approving wink before departing, they made their way up the steps toward her flat.


End file.
